Mary and the Bennets
by jane.green
Summary: Pride and Prejudice as seen through Mary's eyes. The quiet sister's version of the timeless story. Reading would be appreciated, reviews are welcome.
1. Chapter 1

_**The First Chapter: The Church**_

Where was I when my mother found out about Netherfield Park being let at last? I was at church.

We were all at church, to be precise. We were standing in the third row, next to my father. By we, I mean myself and my four sisters.

The church was crowded that Sunday because Mr. and Mrs. Milfreed were rumoured to make an appearance. We hadn't seen them since last July when they had left for Italy. By we, I mean my family and the entire neighbourhood.

They hadn't yet arrived, but some people standing by the door were looking out for them.

As for me, I was listening to the sermon as usual. The sermon today was about how man must accept God's will with obedience, even if His will is to bring him only misfortune. Man is tested. He undergoes a series of trials and tribulations. And he who loves and obeys will come out victorious in the end.

The minister also mentioned the war.

'My beloved lambs, be not afraid of the great battles overseas. They are here to test our faith. If we do not succumb to despair, if we raise our heads in prayer and believe that God is with us, He shall bring his blessing upon us and see us through this time of need. Let us now say a prayer for our husbands, sons and brothers in battle.'

We lowered our heads and sighed deeply. I did not have a son or a brother at war, for which I was thankful, so as I prayed, I thought about other young men that might be fighting against the French. But since I had no clear image in my head, I resumed my prayer quickly and looked around to see what others were doing.

I knew that in my neighbourhood, there was no one related or acquainted with the militia. There was one old lady, Mrs. Strotter. She had a nephew who had a friend who was a sergeant and she received some pretty letters from the former about this sergeant, but nothing more particular.

Therefore, I wondered what they were praying for. Maybe they were praying for the militia in general.

My father used to tell me and my sisters that the militia was made up of uncouth cads, but my mother protested by saying they were very brave and handsome and that they couldn't help the fact that most of them were young.

I was not really sure. I trusted my father to know more about it, but at the same time, I knew he had a habit of exaggerating and being unfairly licentious. He did like to make fun of my continuous reading, thinking I did not notice it.

But my thoughts on what others were thinking came to a halt when I noticed my mother exchanging some feverish whispers with Lady Lucas.

I wouldn't have noticed, except they were being unusually loud. My younger sister, Kitty, nudged me in the ribs and asked me what was happening. Lydia too, my youngest sister, grew impatient and began to look at mother, waiting for an answer.

But the sermon continued after a couple of moments, so we had to wait and find out after we left church.

It was a bit difficult to pay attention after that, because Kitty and Lydia kept fidgeting and looking over their shoulders and since I was sitting between them, every time they moved, they obliged me to move my dress a little.

At one point I told them to stand still already, but Lydia quickly shushed me, saying I shouldn't talk during the sermon. She could be very aggravating sometimes.

When the minister shut his book of prayers and rose from his pew, Lydia and Kitty jumped up and quietly shuffled towards my mother.

The other neighbours were beginning to move as well. They looked like they had been awoken from a deep slumber.

Some of the elder ladies stayed to talk to the minister. They, who had been so quiet and meek during the sermon, were now more loquacious and lively than all of my sisters put together.

I had to stay behind as well, because the ladies that were putting up the Christmas concert this year needed me to assist them with the music. We had to discuss which symphony I would play this year and if I was going to be accompanied by two hands.

So when I did rise from my seat, I told my family that I would lag behind and that I would take a ride to Longbourn in one of the ladies' carriages.

That is why I was not made aware of the latest piece of news, which was that Netherfield Park had been let to a gentleman from the North, called Bingley.

Instead, I remained ignorant of the news for a good while.

Mrs. Thornton, one of the ladies, informed me that this year we would collect more donations from the families in town because last year's concert had not been up to par with the previous ones.

So she revealed to me her plans of visiting some acquaintances in town who could introduce her to other circles. She asked me if I would be so kind as to join her.

'We always need a youthful face among us. It helps ease our difficult task. Also, I'm afraid our old charms do not work anymore as they used to.'

I knew Mrs. Thornton was just trying to be polite. I say this, because in actuality, she needed someone to count the money for her. Someone with better eyes too preferably. She was not very good at sums, so to speak. I had practiced with father a long while and I had taught Kitty myself so I was quite handy with the numbers.

'I am ready to help at any given moment,' I replied readily. 'You only tell me when you need me, Mrs. Thornton.'

After we decided on six symphonies, which we would have to narrow down to three , she offered me a ride in her carriage.

When I arrived home, I saw that everyone was in a state of agitation. My mother was walking about the house, talking to herself and my sisters were all sitting on the stairs, whispering.

I asked, Lizzie, the second eldest, what had transpired.

'Mama has received news that Netherfield Park has been let at last.'

'To who?' I inquired.

'To a rich and handsome man called Mr. Bingley, apparently, who, in her mind, _must_ be in want of a wife, and she is therefore upset that papa refuses to call on him.'

'Is that so?' I asked, intrigued.

'Yes, apparently, Mr. Lucas has already called on him and she cannot bear the thought of them being acquainted with Mr. Bingley before us,' Jane added, raising her brows in amusement.

'Mr. Bingley,' I mumbled confused. 'I have never heard of him.'

'Oh, Mary, what a silly thing to say! No one has! Why would you?' Lydia asked impatiently.

'I only...well, he is not really in search of a wife, is he? It's only mother's fancy, isn't it?' I asked.

'I hope not! Then he would be a bore. Oh, Lydia it would be so droll if he picked me!' Kitty said, laughing.

'Or me!' Lydia added, laughing as well.

'Girls,' Lizzie chided them. 'Mind your manners. Mother is already upset and father isn't in a good mood either.'

'But he will go and call on Mr. Bingley, eventually,' I said, taking off my bonnet.

'How do you know that, Mary?' Kitty asked incredulous.

'Isn't that what papa always does?' answered Lizzie for me. 'He is always obstinate about one thing or another only so he can provoke mother. But in the end, he fulfils her wish.'

'I do hope he calls on him! Imagine if at the assembly we are the only ones who are not acquainted with him! It will be twice as hard to get his attention, if he really is as handsome as they say he is,' Lydia told us.

'It doesn't matter so much if he is handsome,' I began.

'Well, he ought to look amiable, if he can afford it,' Lizzie commented.

'He could be handsome and have a very bad character,' I argued.

'I wouldn't mind as long as he asked me to dance,' Lydia said, as a joke. 'I mean to say, bad character may change, but ugliness never.'

'That is a very silly way to think, Lydia. You know it's the other way round,' I told her, feeling vaguely superior, although I was not quite sure why I was having this conversation to begin with.

'No, it's not, it's only realistic,' she corrected me. 'I wouldn't expect you to understand.'

I stuck out my tongue at her and made my way through the throng of dresses to climb up the stairs to my room.

'Let me know how things progress,' I told them from upstairs. 'I will be in my room rea...'

'Reading, yes we know!' the sisters cried at once.

And so I left my sisters on the stairs and I retired to my cosy and welcoming room. You see, I had the luxury of a personal room, because my sisters slept together in pairs and I was the fifth, so to speak, so they had to redo one of the old laundry rooms to be my chamber.

As I stepped inside, I realized it was warm, since the autumn sun rays were basking it in a yellow light. And it was a very comfortable place for me since it housed all my books and my papers, my ink and my quills. I also had a tiny desk placed right under the large window. I enjoyed sitting there and writing in the morning.

If I could have the piano in my room as well, then it would be perfect.

But then, if it were very perfect I would probably grow tired of it.

As it was, I always found something to entertain me and keep me happy here.

It was one of those things I would never give up for anything in the world.

I could still hear my sister chattering downstairs. I took up my quill and wrote down the sermon I had heard this Sunday. I kept a journal of all the sermons. My father said it was a waste of good paper when I could have written something more useful, but mother said it was a wholesome thing and I quite enjoyed it. It was better to have them written down. I could look over them whenever I wanted to.

The autumn sun lingered on the paper in front of me, as I heard mama cry out at one of the windows:

'Oh, what is to become of this family with a father like yours!'


	2. Chapter 2

_So, I changed a lot of the lines in the book in this chapter, but the plot is the same :) Please review! And thanks can't think!_

_**Chapter 2: Evening at the House**_

Where was I when father told mother he had called on Mr. Bingley?

I was in our drawing room, reading a book by the fire. Actually, we were all in the drawing room, otherwise I wouldn't have heard papa talk to mama about it.

It was another evening at the house and we were all doing what we liked best. Lizzie and Jane were stitching some hats for the assembly, and Kitty and Lydia were picking out laces for their dresses.

Father was playing chess by himself and mother...well, she was sitting in her chair, feeling sorry for herself. I don't know any other way to describe it. She was moaning and complaining how after papa died we would be homeless and destitute.

'No one will provide for you. And it's not like now the provider of this house is doing his duty!' she said, throwing father her sharp look.

But he didn't seem to notice or care. When he did speak, it was to ask Lizzie if Mr. Bingley would like her hat.

'How are we to know what he likes if we are never to meet him?' mama quickly retorted.

I had to agree with her. Why was father making it worse now? He could see mama was in a bad mood.

'But you forget mama that Lady Lucas has promised to introduce us at the assembly,' Lizzie argued.

'I believe she will do no such thing! She is a selfish thing! And she already has two daughters, heaven forbid we had our share of handsome men!'

Here I had to disagree with her. Lady Lucas had always proved to be a friend of the family. She wasn't the brightest lady I had ever met and she fell asleep in church sometimes but she was good and kind. She would never do that.

Then Kitty started coughing for some reason. I had told her earlier that day that standing by the window, looking for Mr. Bingley, would have its dire consequences. Well, she hadn't listened.

'Oh, Kitty will you please stop your coughing! I cannot hear myself think!' mama snapped.

Poor Kitty tried to keep herself from coughing, she even held her breath for a while, but she could not contain herself.

'Oh, you are killing my nerves, Kitty!' Mrs. Bennet complained.

'It's not Kitty's fault that she's coughing,' I told her meekly. I knew it wasn't the right time to defend my sister, but I felt I had to say something.

'It is misfortunate indeed that Kitty should cough at a time like this, but Mary is right, Mrs. Bennet, it's not entirely her fault,' Mr. Bennet spoke. 'But do tell us more about it Mary. I wish to hear your opinion on coughing.'

I looked at father in distress. What did he mean? What did he expect me to say? I had no idea what to reply that wouldn't embarrass me. Was he mocking me again? Was he in earnest? Well, he always had a way of making me feel stupid, whether I answered or not.

'Come now, a fine, educated, well-read girl like you must have an opinion,' he insisted.

'Well...I suppose one coughs when one must,' I said eventually.

'One coughs when one must,' father repeated, his tone grave and serious. 'Mrs. Bennet I was wrong, at least one of your daughters has the wit and intelligence to attract Mr. Bingley.'

I hung my head and sighed. He had done it again! But I was going to have the final word. Even if I had just been shamed, I was going to prove I could notice a thing or two.

I did not know where this bout of courage was coming from but I had to use it before it vanished completely.

'Speaking of Mr. Bingley, father, have you gone to see him today?' I asked boldly.

Lizzie, Jane, Kitty and Lydia all dropped their work in their lap and stared at me in utter disbelief.

'Oh, Mary! What kind of question is that? You know your father has been telling me all day how much he abhors to call on young people, especially eligible ones!' mama said.

'I protest to such injurious accusations, madam, for there is nothing I like more than to talk to a civilised young man. And as to your question, Mary, yes I have called on Mr. Bingley,' he replied, smiling mischievously in my direction.

For a moment, I felt so happy that he had smiled at me that I forgot what he had said, but when my sisters cried out in joy and jumped from their seats, I realized that father had indeed called on him.

'What a good father you have girls! You should be so grateful to him! To think he has already called on Mr. Bingley! And the selfless man did not think to tell us a word!' mother exclaimed, taking his shoulders and kissing him on the cheek.

'Yes, yes, enough of that,' he said, patting her hands gently. 'Now, I wish to hear of it no more.'

'But Mr. Bennet! You can't be silent now! Not after you took the trouble of visiting him! What is he like? We are all dying to know.'

'Are you dear?' he asked, chuckling.

Lizzie and Jane began laughing and Kitty began coughing again. I shut my book and listened. I knew father would say something and I was quite curious.

'Well, I will say this. He looked like a fine gentleman. And a good reader. And that is all,' he declared solemnly. He then hunched back his shoulders and returned to his chess game.

'Oh, Mr. Bennet! How can you be so tiresome? Is that all you could ascertain of the man? Well, you are of no use at all!' mama complained.

'Did you at least find out if he really is attending the assembly?' she asked again.

Father nodded his head reluctantly.

'Ah, at least there is that!'

'Now that we are acquainted with him, mama, I am sure it will be much easier to address him,' Jane said, trying to appease her.

'Yes, yes perhaps he shall speak to us. But will he dance with any of you? Jane, you must sit upfront so he may see you, because you are the eldest and handsomest. Oh and Lydia, though you are the youngest, you are the one with the sweetest disposition, so he might notice you as well. You must choose the best lace for your dress.'

'I may be the youngest, but I am not afraid,' Lydia argued. 'I do have the sweetest disposition, don't I?'

'If by sweet you mean irritating,' I whispered in her ear. She nudged me in the ribs painfully and took my book from my hands.

'Lydia! Give that to me!' I told her, trying to snatch it back, but she was holding it beyond by my reach.

'Now this is a rare event, watching my daughters fight over a book,' Mr. Bennet commented.

'Admit that I have a sweet disposition and I shall give it back,' Lydia insisted, holding it over her head. Unfortunately, she was slightly taller than me even if she was the youngest.

'If you had a sweet disposition you'd give me the book back. You know I was just joking!'

But Lydia threw it to Kitty who was holding her hands open. So, they had made an understanding to torment me!

I ran to Kitty, while mama shouted how we never behave. Then Kitty threw it towards Jane, who threw it towards Lydia again, who threw it towards Lizzie.

Lizzie was about to give it back to me, but at the last moment, she threw it back at Lydia.

'That is treason, Lizzie!' I protested, smiling despite my annoyance.

'We are at war, Mary, you ought to get used to that,' Lizzie replied, laughing.

After a while, we were running and laughing so hard that we forgot what the argument had been all about.

'Alright, alright! This is no way to behave! I will not allow this at Longbourn!' mama yelled over our laughing. 'Are you women or children?'

Even papa started laughing at this.

We only stopped when Mr. Hill came in to announce that supper was ready.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3: The Meryton Ball**_

Where was I when we were supposed to get ready for the Meryton Ball?

I was in the orchard, stretching out for an apple of course. That may sound a bit ridiculous, but I was actually trying to catch this red apple that had been dodging me all day. I had seen it in the morning when I was sitting at the window and I had been observing it for quite a while, so when I took my walk around the orchard and I saw it again, I could not help myself.

That is how my mother found me.

'Mary Bennet! What in heaven's name do you think you are doing at this hour?'

I might add, in my defence, that it was barely three in the afternoon.

'Trying to pick an apple?' I tried.

'Oh, well then that completely excuses the fact that you have not started getting ready for the Ball! I swear, Mary, you act as if you do not even want to go!'

If I had to be honest, I had no real desire to go and she, despite her oblivious ways, knew this.

When I was fifteen, I attended my first Meryton Ball. A night before, I told mother I did not want to go. This was her reply.

'You are young and stupid now my dear, I know what is best for you, so you will go because I wish it. Some day you will thank me. Now, no more arguing, my word is law.'

Maybe the last part I added for dramatic effect, but it was similar to this.

So, you can surmise why I did not think tackling this subject again would be of any use.

'It's too early, mama,' I protested.

'Your sisters are already taking their baths. You ought to do the same.'

Here is one interesting fact about baths. They run cold.

As we could not afford to boil too much water, some of us had to bathe in colder water. We always had to draw out pieces of papers with our names on it to see who would suffer the punishment that week. It was a ritual; a useful one.

That is until I discovered Kitty and Lydia had a habit of writing my name twice instead of theirs.

So it was not such a good bargain for me.

Not to mention, this week I knew for a certainty that Kitty and I were the ones who would play the martyrs.

I protested a little bit longer, but eventually, mama, hauled me inside the house, against my will.

After taking a long and painful bath, I joined my sisters in Jane and Lizzie's bedroom. Jane was tying up Lizzie's ribbons and helping her with her hair and Lydia was helping Kitty with her corset.

'Oh, good, Mary, come here, I will do your hair,' Lizzie told me, smiling.

I had already put on my Ball gown which was a simple pastel dress, with floral patterns at the hems.

'No corset again? You are starting to show, Mary,' Lydia commented.

'At least I have something to show. You are all skin and bones,' I retorted. Admittedly, it was not a very good reply, because in truth, Lydia was a great deal more handsome than me, but I could not let the opportunity pass me by.

Unfortunately, she knew my shortcomings and her advantages and laughed in my face.

'I beg to differ,' she said, smirking.

'I would hate to see you beg,' I replied.

'Alright, that is enough you two, you are two badmouths,' Lizzie commented, taking me by the shoulders. 'Let us see what we can do to your unruly hair.'

'Can I read a bit while you do my hair?' I asked, taking out a volume of poems from my pocket.

Kitty rolled her eyes at me.

'Even now, Mary? Even now?'

'Why would I waste a good twenty minutes doing nothing?' I demanded.

'It is still silly to read when you are getting ready for a Ball.'

'No, it's not. I can do both,' I said, sitting down with my book.

'You are so dull, Mary,' Lydia added. I was feeling slightly guilty about what I had told her earlier – it had not been very sisterly – so I kept quiet. Otherwise I would have told her she was _too_ interesting.

* * *

By the time we were all ready to go it was already half past six. We were rushed into the carriage as usual. We never arrived early to a Ball. Maybe because there were five of us, not to mention mama, who though adamant in her simple ways, took great care of her own appearance. She always complained she was no longer a beauty, but the entire neighbour could attest to it being a falsehood, mainly because mother made sure to look her best all the time.

What with all the preparations, I had forgotten the main concern of the evening: Mr. Bingley. Mama made sure we remembered. She talked only of him during our trip to Meryton.

I prayed silently that I would brave the evening without any incidents. I also prayed for Jane. I told myself 'My Lord, if Mr. Bingley should like anyone in particular, it should be Jane, since she is so kind and beautiful at heart. Please let him notice her.'

When we arrived, there were many carriages drawn up in front of the building. And the rooms were packed. You could not fit a shoe in there. Somehow, we managed to walk from the first room to the second, although I was afraid I would lose myself in the crowd.

I had brought a small book with me, which I kept in my purse. I was waiting for the right moment to find an empty corner and indulge in it, but I knew that it had to wait, since I first had to walk with my sisters around the rooms and pay my good-evenings to our acquaintances. Then I would sit with mother and other ladies and I would probably discuss the Christmas concert for a while and only afterwards would I be able to excuse myself to go read.

It was my usual itinerary at Balls. It varied, depending on the Ball in question.

I had only danced twice in my life, both times with the minister's helper, Jonathan. The minister had put him up to it and I would have refused, only he would not take no for an answer. I suppose the minister also specified he would be very upset should Jonathan not succeed in dancing with me. The minister was fond of me so he derived joy in arranging these things for me. He thought I actually enjoyed dancing, but no one ever took the trouble of asking me.

The reality could not be further from the truth. I simply did not like to dance. Just like some people cannot stand winter weather or eating eggplants. I had this pathological fear of dancing.

I had been asked more than twice and not by Jonathan, but I had declined their offer. Most of them had been young men who, after taking Kitty and Lydia for a turn, thought it would be charitable to take the elder sister too.

My sisters used to tell me I would regret refusing them, but I couldn't bring myself to regret an action which I almost despised.

At this present Ball there would be, I hoped, no danger of someone asking me, because my sisters looked exceedingly well tonight, especially Jane and Lizzie and I had brought my reading glasses. I also trusted that Mr. Bingley and his company would make for a lasting diversion among the attendants.

I sat down next to my father – my mother was across the room and I could not pass some dancing couples – and quietly fell into observing the people around me. I was just amusing myself with a gentleman's very odd choice of hat, when my father pinched me on the shoulder lightly.

'Well, child, I trust you will not sit by me all night, gawking at the neighbours.'

'Oh, no, father, I will sit by mother and do that,' I replied in earnest.

'Good, a vast improvement indeed. But tell me, Mary, will you dance at this one?'

'Jonathan is not here to insist, fortunately, and I will try to avoid it as much as I can. I deem it shall be a danceless night, without any effort on my part.'

'Not much dancing will be done anyways, what with Mr. Bingley's appearance,' he commented.

'I suspected that,' I answered.

We kept silence after this, enjoying – I hoped – each other's taciturn company.

I was about to open my book, thinking I could cheat my itinerary for once, when mother, who had somehow jumped over the train of dancers, appeared out of nowhere.

'Oh, Mr. Bennet, how good that you are here. I must tell you the news I just heard from Mrs. Sherwell. Well, it is a bit of a gossip, so it is an uncertain rumour, but I think it might have something truthful to it.'

'And what could it be madam?'

'Well, apparently Peter Thompson, Mrs. Thompson's son, has returned or is about to return to Meryton.'

I confess I couldn't help a yelp of surprise.

'Who, my dear?' father asked, faking slight interest.

'Oh, you know him! He was a very intelligent fellow! He was a clerk's helper for a while. You remember, he was gone to Germany to finish his studies and he was considering staying there for good.'

'And why didn't he? This country is too old for him.'

'Mr. Bennet! Of course he needed to return! His mother required his presence greatly.'

'Well, my dear, it is not as if his father died yesterday. It has been five years. His mother managed without him or his father just fine.'

'So you do remember him! But Mr. Bennet she was younger five years ago! Now I am afraid she needs him to manage the small estate since she does not feel capable to do it on her own anymore. You know the poor woman bore it out as long as she could.'

'She is barely five and forty.'

'Well! I would not know that age but it must be difficult for her,' mama said, fluttering her fan. 'Heaven knows, I am younger and it is hard enough for me as it is.'

I had listened to this conversation with my mouth almost agape. I could not believe Peter Thompson was coming home.

First the Milfreeds and now this!  
My reaction was due to the fact that back when I was ten and Peter was fourteen, we had played together in Meryton and in Miledock Forest. We had liked playing together because Kitty and Lydia, though younger, were afraid of hurting themselves, or staining their dresses, or blemishing their faces, whereas Lizzie and Jane were too old for our usually ridiculous games. And the boys of his age bullied him because he was short of stature.

We liked to climb trees and play with mud and other disgusting liquids which at the time seemed fascinating to us. Kitty and Lydia always came along but they usually just sat by and watched us embarrass ourselves, occasionally participating in hide and seek or sticks and stones games.

I remembered, with a pang of nostalgia, how he used to call me 'ugly duckling', or 'little sister'. He was mean to me at times, but not cruel. He liked teasing me a great deal because I was an easy match. Once he tried pushing me in a small river and he fell instead. And I laughed at him so much that he got upset and did not speak with me for an entire month.

After that we made peace, but he was already fifteen and going to small gatherings and he had already found himself other companions.

I did not mind because I myself began reading more and more and I soon gave up on most of our games and outings. But when I heard he had left for Germany, I felt I should have said goodbye.

I wondered if he would even remember me now. I thought he would not. More than six years had passed and a lot of marking events could happen to a young man that would make him forget his old home.

After delivering this piece of news, mother had to withdraw to her place among the other mothers because Mr. Bingley and his company had just entered the room.

The event was followed by an eerie silence in which everyone stopped dancing or talking and just stood still. Time had stopped.

When Mr. Bingley finally walked into the room and started talking to Sir Lucas, we all breathed in relieved. The moment had passed.

I saw that with him he had only two gentlemen and two ladies. They all looked very fine and well-bred. I wondered why, though, one of the gentlemen was looking so morose and upset. He seemed to want to be anywhere else.

I looked around the room and understood that the company was making him uneasy. We all looked like buffoons, ogling at some high royalty. We needed to restrain ourselves.

The ladies' dresses, as some other women next to me observed, were made from the finest satin.

'Is that real gold at their trimming?' someone asked.

The ladies were indeed beautiful, but I believed my sisters were far better looking, even if they did not possess those pompous garments and those refined airs. I imagined the ladies stripped of their attire and saw only something akin to dullness.

But I thought I shouldn't judge them based on their looks, like some judged me.

Unfortunately, I was far too shy to even walk in their direction. Maybe, if I was lucky, I could hear them speak.

Mama, however, called us at her side immediately. It was there that I met with Charlotte Lucas who was telling the family about the second gentleman, the one whose expression was so bleak.

'His name is Darcy and he is considerably wealthier than his good friend, Mr. Bingley. His estate is worth at least 10.000 a year and he owns half of Derbyshire...'

Well! Half of Derbyshire! I do not even own half of my house!

It looked like he was a man of importance. No wonder he was so upset to be around 'common folk' when he was used to the elites of society!

Now that we knew he was richer, he did seem rather handsomer than Mr. Bingley.

'Smile girls, quick smile! They are coming over! Cheerful faces!' mama yelped all of a sudden.

And indeed, the two gentlemen were heading our way.

But I was pulled from my sisters from a strange hand. It was Maria Lucas.

'Mary, have you heard that Peter Thompson is coming home? Rumour has it he's already in Meryton! Can you believe it? I thought he would never return!'

I nodded my head absently as I tried to listen to both her and the gentlemen who were talking to mama. It was very unceremonious of me to be speaking to someone else.

'And there is Mary, with Maria Lucas!' mother said, pointing towards me, throwing me an angry look. She was presenting us to Mr. Bingley.

'How splendid. I have never seen so many pretty girls in all my life!' he exclaimed.

I almost laughed, but I controlled myself. He looked like a very amiable young man.

And lo and behold, my prayers were answered, he took one long look at Jane and immediately asked her to dance.

I grinned to my ears. God had heard me and was fulfilling my wish. Now if I could just find a quiet place, without Maria Lucas in it...

But the other gentleman, Mr. Darcy, was unfortunately very rude to us. He turned his back precipitately when mama made the proposition of him asking Lizzie for a dance. Albeit, her manner had been direct too, but he barely glanced at Lizzie before pronouncing himself negatively.

Lizzie was obviously taken aback. But she made light of it as she usually does, by making a joke of how he was not so handsome anymore.

At least there was Jane and Mr. Bingley to look forward to, if Mr. Darcy had disappointed.

As the first dance began, I made sure to sit in the front to take a better look at them. Oh, they looked very lovely together. And cheerful too. Mr. Bingley was all laughter and Jane all easy, sweet smiles. She looked like a soft dove, dancing around him.

I clapped my hands to the tune, encouraging them, a thing which was quite rare for me.

The third dance he danced with Jane again and I watched it as well.

But when this one ended and I finally hoped to find that quiet corner I had been hoping for all night, Kitty and Lydia called me to tell me the militia were coming to town.

'We are going to tell mama!'

'How did you find out about this?' I asked curious.

'Well, Mr. Thompson told us!'

And just like the times when he used to scare me by jumping from behind a tree, Peter came up behind me.

'Mary Bennet! Well, I never thought I'd see you again!' he said cheerfully, taking my hand and squeezing it tightly.

'Did we mention he has returned? And that he's come to the Ball?' my sisters added mischievously, smiling to each other.

'Sir Lucas just told father, but no one paid attention because everyone was far too busy with Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy,' they said.

'Yes, they'll have another surprise for the evening, I'm afraid,' Peter said merrily.

'We must go tell the others, there is so much to tell! But you must promise to dance with us Peter!' Lydia said. 'We will return shortly.'

After my two _lovely_ sisters made their exit, I tried in desperation to find some proper words of greeting. I found none. Six years is a long time.

'Well, it's been a while,' I said.

'Oh, was it so long ago that you pushed me into a river?' he asked cheekily.

I blinked surprised.

'You know I did not! You fell on your own! Are you still upset about that?' I asked warily.

'Calm down, Mary Bennet, I was only fooling with you. I see I can still give you a fright. How could I possibly still be upset with my _little sister_?'

I see he hadn't forgotten his old name for me. I wondered if he remembered the other one.

'And I still remember the other name I called you but we are in a public place so I cannot say it now. You are lucky,' he said grinning.

'Oh, I ought to be. My sisters called me like that for three years afterwards,' I told him, smiling. 'But enough about that, tell me, how was Germany? And your studies? Did you see a great deal of places? And the people, and the language?'

'Easy there, little one. You overwhelm me with so many questions. I cannot answer them all at once,' he said ruffling my hair.

I pushed his hand away gently and I waited for him to reply.

'Well, how about we sit down and I tell you?'

* * *

Peter and I were just in the middle of a very funny story of him trying to speak German at University in his first year, when Kitty and Lydia appeared by his side again.

'You promised a dance and a story, Mr. Thompson.'

'I did promise these two, but mind you, only these. Come, who should have the first dance?'

Lydia took his hand first.

'We will continue that riveting story later, little one,' he said and patted my shoulder in a fatherly gesture.

I nodded my head and watched him take Lydia to the other pairs of dancers.

'Ooh, Peter acts like a big brother to you. It's like nothing changed since you were ten.'

I had to agree with Kitty. He had not changed towards me, although he seemed a great deal changed in general. He was much taller now and had a more imposing figure. He also spoke louder and had a freer manner about him.

But he still treated me like his younger sister, which was comforting after so much time. I thought he would be cold and foreign so I was thankful.

At the same time, though, I was a bit puzzled why, when he was dancing with Lydia, he did not seem to be treating her like a younger sister at all. The way he smiled at her and kissed her hand was very different from the way he squeezed my hand and patted my shoulder. But I put it out of my mind. It was a silly thought.

Just as I was about to get up and find myself a new place to sit, Lizzie walked past me, fuming. I followed her, fearing something bad had happened.

'Lizzie, is everything alright?'

'Oh, Mary, you would not believe,' she said laughing, despite her evident irritation, 'I happened to overhear Mr. Darcy utter some very ill compliments at my expense!'

_Please Review!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you everyone for the nice reviews! I hope you like this chapter! It has a few changes to the novel here and there, but not very significant. Enjoy and please, please, please review!_

_**Chapter 4: Letting the Cat out of the Bag**_

Where was I when my sister Lizzie told me about Mr. Darcy's injurious words at her address?

Right next to her.

I was all eyes and ears. The account she unfolded to me was quite unbelievable. Imagine going to a modest and common country Ball and hearing that your sister was slandered by a rich man called Mr. Darcy! Things like these just did not happen in Meryton. If a gentleman insulted a lady in any way, the father of the lady would demand an apology right away and the man in question would not falter to give it. But as a rule, no one insulted anyone in Meryton, except for the elderly ladies who enjoyed bantering with each other occasionally. But even they took exception if, let's say, a younger lady wanted to join their light argument. Each class reserved their rights to establish their own rules about understandings and misunderstandings.

So, naturally, I thought that Mr. Darcy, rich and important as he may be, was not at all aware of what his class entailed and what respect for other classes meant. He also seemed to hold women in disrespect which was a sign of weakness.

'He said you were not handsome enough to tempt him?' I asked outraged.

'I know, it is unforgivable that he should hurt my vanity this way,' Lizzie said.

'Not to mention you are very beautiful Lizzie. But even if you were as plain as I am, it would be very rude of him to pronounce himself so deliberately.'

'Thank you for saying that, Mary. You are right, Mr. Darcy has slandered just about every woman in the room, not just me. But what do we do about it now? I don't wish to alarm Jane. She is getting along so well with Mr. Bingley. And Mr. Bingley has no fault in Mr. Darcy's atrocious behaviour.'

'We should leave Jane out of this. You can tell her later. But we should tell papa,' I said. 'He should know what kind of man Mr. Darcy is.'

'No, I don't wish to disturb him now. He looks miserable in this company and I wouldn't want to cause him more nuisance.'

'I am sure he would like to know.'

'We can tell him later, after the Ball. The best thing I can do now is find an agreeable partner to dance.'

'Fine, but are you sure you are alright?'

'Of course, Mary. It takes more than one pompous and condescending man to upset me. I am sure I shall forget it very soon.'

'Duly noted,' I said and smiled cheerfully.

After Lizzie left my side, I endeavoured to look for Mr. Darcy. I had nothing to say to him, but if I could catch his eye, I'd throw him my iciest glare his way. He should know that once he offends one Bennet sister, he offends all.

At length, I saw him dancing with one of the ladies from his company. I asked the person next to me who that lady was.

'That is Miss Caroline Bingley, Mr. Bingley's younger sister. She looks very fine tonight, doesn't she?'

She might have looked fine all the time, but to me, she looked a bit fastidious. And I suspected Mr. Darcy was dancing with her because she was familiar to him and because she belonged to that high-bred society he so esteemed.

The couple dancing in close proximity to Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley I discovered in shock, was formed of none other than Lizzie and Peter.

They were both chatting happily. Lizzie seemed to be surprised. She had probably not expected him to be here – not that anyone had, except for his mother, maybe.

He must have asked her to dance after I left her. He had been a good friend to my sisters, so I suppose it was only natural for him to invite them to dance.

And even if I was one of the sisters as well, he had probably avoided asking me because he knew I did not enjoy dancing or maybe someone had told him. Then again, maybe he did not feel comfortable dancing with someone he considered a younger sister. I didn't mind. I just felt a little bit left out, but I knew the feeling would pass come next morning. I was just happy he still considered me close.

I imagined Peter was telling Lizzie all about his travelling. That is why they were talking so much.

When Lizzie turned and saw me in the crowd, she waved at me and I waved back. Peter noticed me too and made a gesture with his hand to come and join the dance.

I shrugged my shoulders and moved my hands around me to point out I had no partner.

He laughed and pointed at a man standing behind him who was looking for a partner.

I chuckled amused, but when I saw who the man he was pointing at was, I suddenly turned yellow and shook my head. It was none other than Jonathan, the dreaded minister's helper.

As much as I loved God, He would forgive me if I told him that His minister's helper was a busybody, because he was, in all respects, a little irritating bee that buzzed constantly in my ear.

I ran off quickly, lest he saw me among the crowd, but I was not fast enough. Barely had I made two steps in the opposite direction, when his shrill voice made its way to me.

'Oh, Miss Bennet!'

Now, I knew the minister made him ask me to dance on each occasion, but if I tried to make him confess, he would adamantly reject the idea, saying he found me a very pretty girl and that his interests were real. I, of course, knew different, since he looked sick to the stomach every time we stepped out.

'Miss Bennet, please, stop trying to get away. You know I mean well. Let me have a dance with you.'

'Jonathan, I don't wish to dance, but thank you for the offer.'

'But please, Miss Bennet!'

'How many times must I say no?'

'But the minister is watching,' he said pointing at a tall gentleman halfway across the room.

'Jonathan, at one point in your life, you are going to have to tell your superior that you have no wish to dance with me. Or are you pleased with your cowardly existence? You should demand your rights!'

'Demand my rights? Oh, Miss Bennet, I would if I could, but the minister has a soft spot for you and says I ought to talk to a smart lady like you and shower you with attentions. What am I to do?'

'This has gone on for almost a year, Jonathan, if not more! We need to do something about it.'

'Oh, will you talk to him, Miss Bennet? Would you please?'

'Well...I wouldn't want to upset him.'

'Please, Miss Bennet, he will only listen to you. He esteems you greatly.'

'Very well then,' I sighed. 'But after this you are not to disturb me again.'

'Oh, Miss Bennet, I won't even help you out of a puddle if I see you on the street!' he said, smiling keenly.

'That is taking it a bit too far, Jonathan,' I said, shaking my head amused.

So, we both made our way to the minister, Father Blooming.

The unfortunate thing was that I needed new reading glasses, because I hadn't realized from a distance who Father Blooming had been speaking to for a while.

It was Mr. Darcy looking very gloomy indeed.

It was too late to make my escape now, because Jonathan had already drawn attention to us.

'Ah, Mr. Darcy, may I present you to the very accomplished Mary Bennet, our neighbourhood's most exerting and faithful parishioner!'

I don't know which was worse; the way in which Father Blooming had just described me, or Mr. Darcy's reaction.

'Father, you exaggerate greatly,' I said, feeling a blush creeping over.

Mr. Darcy bowed stiffly. I curtsied.

'And this is my helper, Mr. Jonathan Riley. A very wholesome young man with a clear head and a good heart. Mr. Darcy and I were just discussing the effects of dancing on men. I must say he brings forth strong arguments. Perhaps I should not approve of dancing after all,' he said, laughing genially.

'I could not agree more, Father,' I said nervously. 'And speaking of dancing, I would add that no man should be made to stand up with a woman only because it is considered proper.'

'I do not quite follow, my dear.'

'Well, you see, there is no harm in a woman not dancing, just as there is no harm in a man not asking,' I said.

'You mean to say it should not be considered rude if a man does not dance, even if partners are plenty?' Mr. Darcy suddenly asked me.

'Yes, exactly,' I said sheepishly, feeling partially resentful that he agreed.

'Hm! Perhaps you should elaborate this idea to my good friend, Mr. Bingley,' he continued haughtily.

'Well, I am not saying Mr. Bingley should not dance, or that you should not - ' but here I stopped myself, because I felt too angry at the memory of Lizzie's account of his insults.

'Then what do you mean, Miss Bennet?' he inquired annoyed.

'I mean that Jonathan should not dance with me,' I blurted out irately.

I had not meant to be so direct, but it had slipped my tongue. I was prone to bouts of impatience.

Father Blooming peered at me from under his glasses with sheer baffle. But then he quickly recovered and coughed loudly, as if trying to cover up the dreadful silence that followed.

'I see you mean a minister's helper should not dance,' Mr. Darcy intervened again, rolling his eyes.

'That is not - '

'Oh, my dear, is that what you meant? Well, goodness! I never believed you to be so very strict Mary! It is admirable for your age.'

'I am not strict - ' I protested, but he continued undeterred.

'And after all Mr. Darcy's told me, he has convinced me. Perhaps you are right. Jonathan shouldn't be allowed to dance at Balls,' Father Blooming concluded.

Jonathan threw me his darkest look possible.

'No, no, that is not what I meant!'

'No, no, Mary, there is no need to excuse yourself child! After all, you are just being a well-mannered young lady.'

I stared resentfully at Mr. Darcy, who had willingly or unwillingly, foiled my plans.

'Father, if I may add, Jonathan is allowed to dance with anyone he wishes, just not me necessarily,' I argued.

'Oh, goodness, dear, there is no point in playing the martyr. It would make it equally improper if he danced with you or anyone else. He would be – how did you call it Mr. Darcy? Oh yes – primitive. He would act like a barbarian. Because any uncivilized man can dance. And dancing, though a pleasing thing for the profane, is certainly not agreeable for the ordained.'

'The barbarians you speak of performed those dances as sacred rituals, as part of their religions and beliefs,' I argued.

'Dear Lord, I don't suppose you find those old practices worthy of our church, do you Mary?'

'Of course not, Father, I just meant - '

'Perhaps Miss Bennet simply means to tell us that she loathes dancing with the opposite sex, a feeling which I can understand. Unfortunately, in your case, it wouldn't be very wise to refuse young men, Miss Bennet, scarce as they may come,' Mr. Darcy commented smugly.

In a fit of anger, I opened my mouth and uttered some dreaded words I would not soon forget.

'And in your case, Sir, it wouldn't be wise to call my sister not handsome enough, when she is clearly far superior to Miss Bingley.'

The deed was done, I'm afraid. I might have held back, had it not been for this stupid predicament about dancing. The fact that Jonathan was staring at me, mouth agape, was not helping. Fortunately, the minister had no idea what I was talking about.

Mr. Darcy's expression underwent different emotions, until it settled on incontestable anger and annoyance.

I curtsied quickly and told them I had a headache. And I left the scene very fast.

I believe I looked very ridiculous from their point of view. Even mad.

Jonathan would probably have me dead.

However, this would be nothing compared to what Lizzie would do to me when she found out.


	5. Chapter 5

_thanks to everyone for the support! you're all great!_

**_Chapter five: In Hiding _**

Where was I when Lizzie found out about my indiscretion? I was running for my life.

The gossip spread like fire, literally. And this is how it happened. Once I had turned my back on Mr. Darcy, he found Mr. Bingley and recounted to him all that I had uttered and he, in turn, resolved to find Jane and tell her.

I know this because I watched them across the room. When Mr. Bingley started whispering into Jane's ear I knew it would only be a matter of time before Lizzie knew as well and then I would be a goner.

I felt very annoyed with Mr. Darcy. Now it would be his fault if Lizzie took exception with me.

I stealthily abandoned the room, in an attempt to find a suitable place to hide in case my sister would come after me, exacting revenge.

I knew Lizzie would be embarrassed and mad. I hoped she would spare me, though. I had had her best interests at heart. I had wanted to defend her beauty in front of Mr. Darcy. Even if it had backfired, it had been an honest attempt to redeem her. Perhaps it had not been my due, but then, father wouldn't have said anything and mama would have made a bigger scandal of it.

All in all, I thought Mr. Darcy deserved to know we had been offended.

This is what I was telling myself when I opened the door into a private study and locked myself in. I thought this was as good a place as any. I never thought I'd find myself one day hiding from my sister. Or that I would do this at a Ball, because I had accidentally insulted a very rich man.

But here I was and as long as I was stuck here I might as well take advantage of the room and do some reading.

I fumbled with the string on my little bag.

'Mary? Mary Bennet?'

I almost dropped it on the floor.

'What are you doing here, of all places?'

Peter was staring at me from across the room. He had been sitting in an armchair next to the window.

I realized now that the room had been unusually well lit when I had entered it.

I would have slapped myself over the head if I could. If Lydia were here, that is what she would do to me.

'Well, what are _you _doing here?' I asked, looking about.

'I wanted to be alone for a while. I was feeling rather tired. I had a long day,' he explained, setting aside a paper he was reading.

'Oh, well, you should rest then, I mean too much dancing does that to someone. Not that you shouldn't dance.'

He laughed.

'It wasn't the dancing that tired me, it was the incessant noise and bustle,' he said. 'I'm no longer accustomed to it.'

'Right, there is that too. Germany is probably a lot quieter.'

'You are right about that. I had forgotten how chatty English people can be at a large gathering. They all wanted to know everything; where I've been, what I've done. You know, the usual.'

'Well, can you blame them?' I asked eagerly. 'We're all curious about you. I mean you were gone for so long and you suddenly return and you expect people to act as if you were never gone?'

He looked at me surprised. He hadn't expected me to say that.

'Of course they will ask questions. If you did not wish to confront them, you shouldn't have come,' I continued.

'You're right, perhaps I shouldn't have come. I should have given it a day or two,' he said, sadness in his voice. 'I just missed you all.'

I instantly regretted what I had said. I had been too harsh. I tried cheering him up.

'It's alright, it was very thoughtful of you to come. Even if it was on such short notice. If you hadn't come directly, people would have been even more upset. You can imagine. So it's good you came.'

He smiled.

'You think so, little one?'

'Yes, of course I do.'

'And what shall I do about the questioning?'

'Well, you ought to be patient with them. You owe them at least a few answers. But it is best to talk to someone thoroughly about it and that someone will spread yours words to others,' I said, recalling that time when Mrs. Price wanted to let everyone know she had bought a new pianoforte and she told Kitty, who told the entire village.

'Talk to someone thoroughly? I don't suppose you would be that person?' he asked amused.

'Oh, no, no, I did not mean it like that! But I would like to know more about your adventures. That is, if you wish to tell me. But certainly, I did not wish...'

'Goodness, little one, I was just joking with you, there's no need to have a fit,' he laughed.

'I know you were joking!' I replied, feeling my face burning.

'Ask me whatever you wish to know, I am at your disposal,' he said, pointing at the two chairs by the window.

'Oh, I couldn't...' I began, looking at the door.

'Come now. I improperly abandoned our conversation to dance with your sisters. It is only fair to continue it now.'

'Very well then,' I said feeling somewhat gratified.

'So,' he said after we both sat down. 'I was telling you about my studies...or do you wish me to start with something else?'

I looked down for a moment, not knowing how to begin.

'Start with the beginning. When you first left Meryton,' I said.

'Oh that,' he said, his face darkening. 'That was not a happy memory for me. I remember feeling terrible the day I left. I was leaving everyone and everything behind.'

'I know, I found out about it very late. I did not get to say goodbye. You had already left,' I mumbled.

'Oh, don't trouble yourself about that. We had grown apart before that. So you were not obliged to see me off,' he said nonchalantly.

But I felt hurt.

'Yes, I was. I mean, even if we were not good friends anymore, I should have said something.'

'I did not even think about it, Mary Bennet and neither should you. The day I left, I had nothing on my mind but the life ahead of me and the sorrow I was leaving behind. I was not thinking of anyone in particular, much less you, little one.'

I nodded my head.

'In fact, it was a long time before I allowed myself to think of Meryton again. I knew reminiscing would only bring me pain, so for a year or so, I tried blocking all memories of it. Otherwise I couldn't have focused on my studies. And it was useful to me to forget about all of you for a while. You see, I made a great deal of progress in Mathematics and Latin and I found myself so immersed in my reading that I had no time to think of anything else. It was a pleasant time for me. I was free of all attachments.'

'I wish I could feel that someday,' I said, feeling heavy at heart.

'Oh, Mary, you don't wish that! It's not a good thing for a young girl like you. And I was not as happy as you think I was. I might have enjoyed my freedom, but I got very lonely in a place filled with strangers. And after a while, when I finally began thinking of Meryton again, it enveloped me completely. It was such a relief to let my mind wonder to this place again. It was like I had been punishing myself for too long.'

I smiled. 'I understand. I feel the same. With all its faults, Meryton is an excellent place to be.'

'Excellent place to be!' he echoed. 'You've always had such an amusing speech.'

'But I'm not joking!'

'I know, that is why it is very amusing,' he said, smiling. 'In fact, I remember once I was travelling to Bavaria and I met this charming young girl that reminded me of you. I thought to myself, if only Mary Bennet could see!'

'Really?' I asked curious. 'What was she like?'

'Oh, she was this little girl, I believe she was twelve, and she was so sharp and observant for her age. She was an apothecary's daughter and she knew all the recipes and plants by heart,' he began.

'Oh, did she?' I asked happily. I felt my cheeks burning again, but this time it was not from shame.

Still, in the back of my mind, a part of me felt sourly disappointed. I did not know why.

'Yes, she was the tiniest creature, but what she lacked in appearance, she more than made up for in intelligence. You would have adored her.'

'I am sure I would have. You should have brought her home with you.'

'Oh, no, I'm afraid that couldn't be done,' he said laughing. 'Unless I married her of course. And how could I marry such an innocent child?'

'Yes,' I replied, laughing as well. 'That would have been very strange.'

I felt another pang of disappointment hitting me straight in the chest. I frowned and looked down at my feet, hidden by the hem of my dress. I knew I was being very irrational, because I had no reason to be disappointed or sad. In fact, I had all the reasons to be happy and joyous. Peter had returned and we were talking like we used to, like old friends. Was that not good enough? I had always wanted a friend and Peter had always been a good choice. Why was I feeling cheated? Was I not pleased with him?

It was only the predicament with Mr. Darcy that was making me feel this way.

Just when he was about to say something, someone knocked on the door. I froze in my chair.

'Mary Bennet! Are you in there?'

Lizzie!

'Oh, no, no, no,' I mumbled frightened.

Peter was about to ask me, but I quickly silenced him, placing my hand over his mouth. I shook my head vigorously.

'It's my sister Lizzie. She must not know I'm here. Otherwise she will murder me,' I whispered.

'What in God's name do you mean?' he whispered back.

'I have made a terrible mistake, you see. And now she's very upset with me. And she can be very...impulsive when she is upset.'

'Is what why you were hiding here?' he asked.

I nodded my head, pleading him with my eyes not to say anything.

'Please...' I whispered.

'Not to worry, I will handle this,' he whispered. 'Get behind my chair.'

I did as he told me and waited. I heard him walk to the door.

He unlocked it and opened it wide. I held my breath.

'Elizabeth? What brings you here?' he asked.

'Oh, Peter! I did not know you were in here...have you seen my sister, Mary? I've been looking for her.'

'Oh, Mary? Oh, I haven't seen the little one since we last spoke. I think she told me she was going upstairs. Has anything happened?'

'No, I mean yes, I need to speak to her right away. Are you sure she's not here?' she asked.

'Elizabeth, please,' he began laughing. 'I've come here to have some peace, I'm sure I would know if someone other than me were here.'

'Oh, of course, silly me. I am sorry to intrude. I will leave you to yourself now. Thank you,' she said. And with that I heard him shut the door behind her.

I let out a deep breath of relief. But I remained where I was, fearing she would come back. She always won when we played hide and seek in the barn. She was the best seeker.

A pair of hands lifted me by my shoulders. I yelped.

'Now, would you care to explain yourself?' he asked.

'Explain myself?' I began. 'Well, there is nothing to explain really.'

'Alright, I guess I'll go call Elizabeth,' he said, walking towards the door.

'No, no, don't do that!' I yelped, pulling his arm.

'Then tell me why you are acting like someone being taken to the gallows.'

'Well, you see,' I said, fidgeting. 'I might have said something stupid.'

'You? Never,' he mocked.

'Don't do that,' I said frowning. 'I really did it this time, Peter.'

'Worse than that time when you accidentally told Rosy Gawkin she was adopted?'

'Worse,' I said. 'I mean, emotionally, it might not be worse, but the consequences would be much graver and...'

'Just tell me!'

'Well, you see, this very important man, Mr. Darcy, insulted my sister Lizzie. I mean, he told Mr. Bingley, his friend, that she was not tolerable enough to tempt him. He even had the audacity to say that he was in no mood to give consequence to women who had been scorned by other men. Imagine my fury when I heard this. Gossip is one thing and one is entitled to one's opinions. I do sometimes badmouth some people but I feel bad after it, of course. And I apologize. But he didn't apologize and really, his remarks were uncalled for! If Lizzie really were plain, like me for example, but she really is very beautiful and he had no right to... Well, either way, I had an argument with him after this and I accidentally let it slip that my sister knew about his insult. I also told him he had been a fool to say that about her and that she was far better than Mrs. Bingley!'

At the end of my speech, Peter was staring at me as if I had grown another head.

'Well, in my defence, I hadn't even intended to speak to him, but Jonathan dragged me there because he was afraid of the minister!'

Then, all of a sudden, Peter burst into laughter.

'Wh-Why are you laughing? Is my story _amusing _you?'

He continued laughing, holding the back of a chair for support.

'Stop it, stop it right now! My sorrows are not a laughing matter. This is serious!'

I saw now that he had tears of laughter in his eyes.

'How can you laugh like that? Really now!'

I was reminded of all those times he had laughed at my expense. I used to hit him in the stomach whenever he did that.

Instead, I hit him over the shoulder.

'Alright, alright, no need to get brutal!' he said.

'Well, you wouldn't stop!'

'But really, Mary, darling, can you not see how ridiculous this story is?'

'Ridiculous? I would have called it tragic.'

'Tragic? Well, it's the funniest story I have heard in quite a while. It really cheered me up.'

'I don't see the funny part at all! Lizzie is probably very upset with me.'

'Oh, come now, I'm sure by now most of her anger has vanished. How can anyone stay upset with you? I am sure if you tell her what you just told me that she will forgive you instantly.'

'How come?' I asked incredulous.

'Because, little one, you're just too much for someone to stay upset with,' he said laughing.

'You stayed upset with me that time you fell in the river,' I mumbled, looking down.

'That was...something different,' he said, his face falling.

'How was it different?'

'I can't really tell you, but I was not really upset with you, alright? I never was,' he assured me, smiling.

I was still not convinced. There was something he was not telling me. I was sure about it. I saw it in his eyes. What was he not telling me? What was he hiding?

'Either way, your sister will not be upset with you,' he concluded. 'If I didn't stay upset with you, she will not either.'

'I'm not so sure...' I muttered.

'I am sure she will even laugh about it.'

'I highly doubt that, but I should probably face her.'

'That would be a wise thing to do,' he said, nodding his head.

'Alright, but what about our talk?' I asked.

'Let's leave it for another time. This way, we will always have a good subject of discussion,' he said.

'Right, that is a clever plan,' I remarked.

'Well, I guess I would better go find her,' I said, shuffling my feet.

He opened the door for me. I was about to ask him about the river again, but he smiled at me and shut the door behind me.

'After you,' he said.

I sighed and walked back into the Ball room.


	6. Chapter 6

_Hello everyone! Thank you so much for your reviews and for the support (14! love it!)! Thanks to Monica for the anonymous review and to Florencia7 and can't think! Please tell me what you think of this new chapter. It's short but it's focused on the sisters. By the way, does anyone else hear the song Girls Just Wanna Have Fun in their head when they show up? I know I do!  
_

_**Chapter 6: Girls will be Girls **_

Where was I when my sweet, calm and forgiving sister, Lizzie found me?

Hiding behind Peter, of course.

'Mary Bennet! You know I can see you behind Peter! You'd better stop hiding!'

'I believe it is safe to leave you two lovely ladies alone now,' Peter said, smiling obligingly as he pushed me in front of Lizzie.

I do not know why he thought it was safe to leave me alone there, but I didn't have a chance to question his decision because he immediately disappeared in the large crowd of the Ball room. I followed him with my eyes, wishing he had taken me with him.

When I turned to face Lizzie again, she was glaring at me from above her blue fan.

'Mary, how could you do that? I trusted you with a very delicate subject!'

'I know it was delicate, Lizzie, but you see, at the time, I was not thinking clearly…'

'And not even half an hour later,' she continued undeterred, 'you went and told Mr. Darcy everything?'

'Like I said, it was a spur of the moment kind of decision. I had absolutely no intention of talking to him, but I found myself conversing with the minister and he just happened to be there! And he began teasing me and I couldn't help – Oh, Lizzie I am so sorry!'

'Well, you should be very sorry indeed,' Lizzie said, her temper slowly fading.

'I know, Lizzie, but if you had heard him – he was so condescending and you know how I cannot stand class superiority, especially since the Bennets are a very good family – _we_ are a very good family – and there would be no reason for him to infer anything to suggest otherwise about any of us!'

'Well, I know Mr. Darcy is profoundly unpleasant and narrow-minded, but there was no need to throw back his insult, it only added more shame and pain to me.'

'But Lizzie, in all earnest, my intentions were just! I only wanted to redeem your name, because everyone knows you are a beauty in this shire and no living man in Meryton would disagree to that – so if a newcomer like Mr. Darcy insulted you like this, on unqualified grounds – well, then, he should be reprimanded for his boldness!'

I could see Lizzie's anger was melting. She was now barely hiding a smile. I believe she found my speech a bit amusing. I suppose Peter was right; the entire thing was not devoid of humour. But it was not in any way unserious. And I treated it in a serious manner.

'Oh, you silly girl! You know I appreciate it when you defend the family's honour – _my_ honour – but it was an unnecessary effort on your part!' Lizzie said taking my hand. 'I hardly think Mr. Darcy gave a single thought to what he said or felt the least remorseful about it.'

'You can't know that, Lizzie. Maybe now he will see the error of his ways,' I argued.

'That is what Jane would say, but that is expecting too much of people, Mary. Just because a good-hearted simple girl told him once that he had been wrong, he will not be overcome with remorse and try to change his ways. Rich men can afford to overlook these things and continue acting as they please.'

'Well, even rich men who will never change deserve to be told once or twice that they are being very rude!' I argued, folding my arms.

Lizzie was about to reply, when Charlotte Lucas came running towards us from the crowd.

'Oh, Lizzie, you will not believe what I just heard!'

At the moment, I couldn't think of anything else more preposterous than what I had done that evening, so whatever Charlotte was going to say could not possibly be worse.

'If it is about Mary telling Mr. Darcy off, we already know,' Lizzie said, rolling her eyes.

'Well! That does make sense in the context!' Charlotte exclaimed surprised. 'Now I understand why Mr. Darcy would ask my father about you and your family!'

Then again, I guess I was wrong. There was something more surprising.

'He asked about me?' Lizzie wondered.

'Yes, and he inquired about your family and Mary, of course. Now I see why,' Charlotte said, smiling pitifully at me. 'What did you say to him Mary?'

'Oh, nothing much, she only told him he had been arrogant and indolent to have insulted me and that his friend's sister could not hold a candle to my looks,' Lizzie replied amused.

'Those were not my exact words you know!' I argued.

'That is what Jane told me,' Lizzie said, shrugging her shoulders.

'Rumours do have a way of being _greatly _exaggerated,' I said, sighing. 'Well, the deed is done now. But why did Mr. Darcy ask about us?'

'He wanted to know more about all of you. He was obviously upset, from what papa could tell me. But he did not seem angry. He actually looked a bit humiliated and ashamed,' Charlotte told us.

'Ha! What did I tell you Lizzie? Even rich men understand when they have been inexcusably crass!'

'Oh, shut up, Mary, for all we know, he might actually take offense with our entire family!' Lizzie said, stifling a giggle.

'I think it is a bit late to wonder if he has taken offense with the Bennets!' Charlotte replied, laughing. 'But at least he _will_ remember you. In any case, he didn't look like he would soon forget it.'

'Yes, we will be remembered as the girls who had the audacity to insult the man who owns half of Derbyshire,' I said, smiling.

'The miserable half,' * Lizzie commented.

We all burst into laughter.

'Well, I do believe a celebration is in order!' Charlotte said after we had settled down.

'A celebration of what exactly?' Lizzie asked, raising a brow.

'Why, my dear Lizzie, we must celebrate the success of this Ball! Jane has caught Mr. Bingley's heart and you two have caught Mr. Darcy's interest! Of course, that interest means he now loathes you for all eternity which is still quite an achievement!'

'Yes, we have truly made an impression on our guests!' Lizzie exclaimed.

And Charlotte had not been joking when she said we had caught Mr. Darcy's interest. For the rest of the night, whenever Lizzie happened to be in his proximity, he would throw her some very conspicuous looks. Sometimes he glared, sometimes he stared at her in the strangest of ways.

As for me, towards the end of the Ball, when Mr. Darcy and his company were preparing to leave, he came up to the minister and, among other things, told him to bid me good evening. I know this because the minister wasted no time in telling Jonathan, who rushed to tell me.

'Not only do _I_ get punished in your stead for _your_ thoughtless words, but you are also let off, scot-free, with only a good evening from Mr. Darcy! Where is the justice in that Mary?'

But I could not really explain to Jonathan that justice was more than just personal retribution, because I was too happy at the idea that he would never torture me with a dance again. After I meditated more upon it though, I did feel sorry for him and I had the intention to write him a letter of apology, but then I realized the minister would most likely forget about his religiously bound decision and in any case, Jonathan would go to a great deal of dances without his pious superior being present.

As for Kitty and Lydia, they had danced the night away and at the end of it, were quite exhausted and ready to go to bed. However, they were still just as chatty as ever and ready to gossip the minute we set foot in the carriage.

I guess talking did not demand much of them.

Before we made our departure, however, Peter, who was leaving with his mother at the same time, took it upon himself to wish us good night.

He helped Kitty and Lydia put their coats on, but when he was about to help me with mine, he quickly realized he had left his mother by the carriage alone and begged we forgive him for his impudence. He promised to visit us soon, however.

I could not help but think he could have helped me as well without his mother getting lost on her own. Mrs. Thompson was not quite so old or decrepit, as to be unable to take care of herself.

But Peter probably felt a bit uneasy around me, seeing as we had had some curious exchanges that night. Not to mention, this was his first day back, and he needed his rest and solitude.

On our way home, however…

'Peter kept telling me how he could just dance all night long, he was so restless! He said he never wanted to have a wink of sleep again! Said he had slept too much in Germany!' Lydia told us.

'Slept too much in Germany? Oh, who was he dreaming of all that time, I wonder?' Kitty mocked, laughing loudly.

'You two are really the worst. He was working hard in Germany, not dreaming of anyone,' I told them, getting all red.

'Oh, look who got jealous all of a sudden! Sorry Mary but you have no right to act like this, it's not like he danced with you all evening. Well, you aren't one to dance anyway so no wonder the poor man didn't ask you!'

'Don't tease Mary now, Kitty, she was busy telling Mr. Darcy off! Well done Mary!' Lydia said laughing.

'Now you two be quiet about that!' Lizzie checked them rapidly. 'I want no other comments on that. Your sister acted on her best intentions. There is no need to ridicule her for it.'

'But we are not doing that, Lizzie! We're actually in awe! We are only admiring our sister for her boldness, aren't we Kitty?' Lydia asked slyly.

'Yes, exactly! I wish _I _had told Darcy a thing or two! I would have _really _shocked him,' Kitty agreed.

'Kitty, that is no way to speak of a gentleman,' Jane intervened.

'Oh, Jane, you have no reason to complain. Everyone knows Mr. Bingley liked you the best. You danced three dances with him and he talked with you for the rest of the evening. Aren't you as happy as a kitten?' Lydia asked.

'I daresay he has even fallen in love with you!' Kitty exclaimed wistfully.

'Girls, really now! How can a man fall in love with a woman over the course of one evening? That would be foolish.'

'I agree, but it did not stop Romeo and Juliet from doing it, did it?' I said, shrugging my shoulders.

'Stop encouraging them, Mary. Mr. Bingley showed no such interest in me,' Jane said, blushing.

'Come now, not even you believe that, Jane,' Lizzie said, rolling her eyes. 'He followed you around like a bewitched admirer the minute he saw you. And don't tell me you were upset about that!'

'No, I found him very agreeable, I confess. He is just as a gentleman ought to be! Kind, generous, amiable…'

'Handsome and rich too, if he can afford it,' Lizzie commented.

'Lizzie! You mustn't be led into temptation by thoughts of fortune,' Jane said.

'Oh, well, I suppose it's done now. I can't take back my sin. Now, what shall we do about your Mr. Bingley?'

'The question is, what shall we do about Mr. Darcy? I suppose he wasn't _bewitched _by any of us!' Kitty said.

We started laughing again.

'Alright now that is enough!' mama suddenly yelled from above. She was sitting next to the coachman, trying to get some fresh air.

'I am sick and tired of hearing your giggles and shrieks! Can't you see your father is sleeping?'

Papa was indeed sound asleep in a corner, his coat thrown over his body and his hands against his tall cane, but he did not seem to have been the least bit disturbed. In fact, he had barely stirred.

'Mama, he is very much asleep,' I said.

'And? Is your plan to wake him up? You know your poor father can't sleep once he is awaken. Now, do be quiet! We shall talk in the morning!'

'Boo! Mama is being a bore!'

'Lydia!' Lizzie exclaimed, hitting Lydia in the foot.

Lydia hit back with all her might, but Lizzie nudged her again.

'And now Lizzie wants to fight! Well, take out your bags ladies. We shall have a duel.'

'No, we won't Lydia,' I said, pushing her hands away.

'And why not, Mary?'

'Because I have a heavy book in my bag and you know I will win,' I said, grinning.

Lydia groaned and sat back in her seat.

'Books. Always making sure we have no fun,' she said sulking.

'Yes, I am such a terrible sister,' I commented rolling my eyes.

'Did you at least do any reading tonight, Mary?' Jane asked politely.

'No, actually I did not. It was such a busy night,' I said quietly.

I was surprised myself. It had been one of the rare Balls where I hadn't been able to read.

It had been an eventful one after all.

* * *

*** - Because I couldn't help adding a quote from Pride and Prejudice, the movie! (2005). Albeit, I'm not a huge fan of the version, but I did find that particular line brilliant and it was delivered so well, I just had to include it :) **

**Also, when I write the characters, I can't help picturing the actors from this movie, has this happened to any of you as well? I don't know why, maybe cuz I like Donald Sutherland way too much:)). But I think it's because I find, at least some of them, to suit the characters much better than the actors in other versions. (And no it's not cuz they're prettier lol)**

**The exception would be Lizzie who I sometimes see as Keira, sometimes as Jennifer Ehle, depending on her attitude and mood, Keira being more of a village girl, Jennifer more of a lady.**

** As for Mr. Darcy, I am pretty much in love with all of them, but yes, Matthew does bring something new to him which I am quite partial to (even if it is, as many have said, a more Heathcliff performance, I don't see much harm in that, because it's not overdone, it's simply a new interpretation). Colin Firth is still king of sexy looks though, no matter what :P **

**As for my titular character, Mary, I can't really picture her as the girl in the 1995 version because that girl was just unpleasant and I know Mary is portrayed that way in the book, but the actress seemed more like a caricature of the character than the actual thing. She never showed emotion and that kind of bothered me. And I didn't mind her looks, but she didn't look plain, she just looked sour and upset all the time and I like to think Mary isn't like that. I mean she does live with the four most amazing sisters in the world! She couldn't possibly keep a straight face all day long.**

**I would say the 1980 version does a good job of showing her softer side and building her as a more rounded character. She's still her usual stern self, but a lot sweeter and funnier. She isn't left out from the group, she joins her sisters in just about everything, which is something the book didn't always focus on. Also, the fact that she is the one who the sisters decide to send to ask about Mr. Bingley is a great touch and it shows how united the girls really are, despite their differences. And she is literally the first character seen on screen which rocks!**

**The 2005 version goes a step further and tries to add a bit of drama and background to her character, which is great in my book, although if you're going to go there, if you're going to show Mary cry, or feel sorry for Mr. Collins, don't just pass over these scenes like they're just there to help the plot move along. I know there was no time to focus on her (Kitty didn't even get one decent scene to begin with), but the movie left me wanting more and I just sort of regretted how they built something great and then let it collapse. Oh, well, I nitpick way too much. The actress was great though and her image is stuck in my head, so yes, I picture Talulah Riley when I write Mary. **

**Now that I wrote my obligatory rant I can only say each version pays its tribute accordingly and I love all Mary's, even those I can't stand :))**

**As for the 1940 version which I did not mention, well, I haven't finished watching it, but I haven't much to say about it, since it's more like a satire of the satire! Seriously, it's more like making fun of Pride and Prejudice rather than the social context. Which is admirable (there are some great one-liners in there), but a little irritating at times. **

**Okay, NOW I am done. Hope you read the chapter and enjoy it!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	7. Chapter 7

_Hi everyone, happy to be back with a brand new chapter which I hope you will all enjoy. It took me a while to update because I have had a lot on my mind and I was still uncertain about this story. Thanks so much for all your wonderful reviews and support, they keep me going:) Many thanks to **can't think** and** Florencia7** for the reviews to the last chapter, you are very kind :) Also, I'm happy you think I got the sisters right. It is their bond that makes me wish I had a sister of my own. _

_Anyways, please tell me what you think of this chapter, hopefully it won't disappoint. Thanks._

**_Chapter 7: Mornings _**

Where was I the following morning?

Under my pillow. And I was praying for mama to go away. But God does not grant absurd wishes.

And I suppose from a mother's point of view, she had every right to barge into my bedroom and demand an explanation.

'It is not only what Mr. Darcy will think now, imagine what the neighbours shall say when they hear!' she was telling me in a very loud voice. I think the neighbours could hear us already.

I pressed the pillow over my head again. It was dark and warm, but it wasn't quiet, unfortunately.

'Well, you can't stay under that pillow all day Mary Bennet!'

'I can try,' I muffled.

'I demand you defend yourself, young lady! Last night you behaved most atrociously! You are usually quiet and demure.'

'I'm not _always_ quiet and demure,' I rectified.

'And last night you picked just the right time _not_ to be your usual self!'

I finally pulled my pillow off my head and stared at her determinedly.

'Well, last night was the first time a man ever insulted my sister,' I replied truthfully.

It had never happened in the past. Lydia and Kitty were a bit too loud and nosy for me, but all the young men loved them and would never utter a bad thing about them, because they were altogether sweet and innocent. They weren't like those town girls you hear about in papers. They were wholesome. And that was true about all of my sisters. They were all good and kind. Jane was an angel and Lizzie was not far behind.

And no gentleman, no matter how rich or handsome, could very-well insult any of them, especially when he had absolutely no grounds.

'It is true that Mr. Darcy was...quite morose,' mama agreed, blinking rapidly.

'Quite morose? No one liked him at the assembly, not even you.'

'Now, that is not entirely true...'

'Come mama, we all found him disappointing.'

'Fine! I may not have found him pleasing, but that is no excuse to go about offending him! He might be the most arrogant and conceited man in all England, he is still worth 10.000 a year and I will not have him slighted by my eighteen year old daughter!'

'The fact that he is wealthy should not weigh so heavily.'

'Oh, but it does. As you will soon find out when you grow older!'

'I don't think it will matter more to me when I grow older. I'm sure I won't worry over it very much.'

'And how will you ignore thoughts of money when you've got nothing to eat? When you've got no roof over your head? I wonder how you'll manage. Will your books keep you warm? Will your sharp tongue feed you? I've told Lizzie and I'll tell you again, keep quiet and smile and pray that you find a good husband!'

I bit back whatever reply I was going to make. One thing was certain, I would never waste something as precious as a prayer on good husbands.

'An educated woman like you with five sisters and barely 100 pounds a year has no future without a steady income provided by a good husband,' mother continued.

I folded my arms and glared at her forehead. Papa always told me to stare at her forehead when she was making a fuss. It confused her.

'Mary, what are you staring at?' she asked annoyed. 'Are you even listening?'

'Yes, yes.'

'I'm only telling you this because I care for you and I want to see you happy and well.'

I sighed.

'You and your sisters deserve to have...'

'Alright, alright,' I interrupted her, ' I'll make sure never to cross Mr. Darcy again, satisfied?'

'No, no, leave Mr. Darcy out of it. I want you to cease this morose attitude, it is not becoming. You ought to be less hostile.'

'If Mr. Darcy had insulted you, would you have wanted father to ignore it completely?' I asked.

That seemed to calm her down. She breathed in deeply and sat down on my bed.

'Well, I suppose that has already happen. Who knows how many times I have been slighted without your father showing the least concern,' she complained.

'I think he makes sure no one tries to offend you. He can be very stern. And that's no fault of his. Maybe I am not as stern, but I can stand up for myself just the same.'

'I'm sure that will be of use _some _day, but it is not today or tomorrow,' she said gravely. Her face looked so serious for a moment, but then her forehead (which I had been staring at, as instructed) smoothed itself and the lines of her face gradually disappeared.

She made an amused face and slapped me rather hard on my back.

'Up! Up! Go wash yourself before the Lucases arrive!'

'There's no need to be mean about it,' I complained as she pinched me out of bed. I wrapped the sheets around my head and hurdled towards the door.

'Take those off your head! And...Mary?'

'Yes?'

'Mayhaps Mr. Darcy will see Lizzie again and will regret his words dearly when he sees how lovely she really is.'

'That sort of thing only happens in books, mama,' I told her earnestly.

'Well you never know!' she huffed.

She was right at that. Although, I did not think there could be a chance of Elizabeth liking Mr. Darcy or vice versa, stranger things had happened in our neighbourhood.

* * *

After I served my punishment (mama had made me go without breakfast for my misdeed), I was finally allowed to join the group in the drawing room.

Charlotte and Maria Lucas had come to discuss the Ball. Mrs. Lucas was in the parlour, talking to mama.

My sisters and I sat around the fireplace as Maria and Charlotte walked about the room.

I was leafing through my book in boredom. I did not wish to read. I was not in the right mood. I admit I was curious to hear the conversation. So I decided to listen.

'Well, I think it was perfectly unfair of Mr. Bingley to keep dancing with anyone else when he was so obviously taken with you, Jane!' Maria cried at one point, after Jane mumbled something about Mr. Bingley dancing with Miss King.

'Oh, Maria, you say such ridiculous things! You and my sisters both! Men do not fall in love that easily. I would not even like someone who was so quick to love.'

'Wise words, sister. But I'm afraid you have broken your own rule. For you are very much in love yourself,' Lizzie spoke.

'Lizzie, can't I just have a very good opinion of him?' Jane asked, blushing. 'Why must you always presume that it is more than that?'

'It is actually the first time I am sure your attachment is real,' Lizzie replied.

'And he is the first man who is truly worthy of your heart,' Lydia commented grinning. 'Not like that boring chap who was obsessed with you when you were fifteen. He had such a yellow complexion.'

'His name was Harold and he was a sensitive poet,' Jane argued.

'Poet, ha!' Kitty laughed. 'I am more of a poet than he'll ever be.'

'We're not discussing Harold right now, we are discussing the Ball!' Charlotte interrupted.

'Yes, the Ball which Harold could not attend. Is he gone missing? I bet he has gone to London to present his poems to the Queen,' Lydia continued, laughing.

'And therein lies the reason why no one wrote you poems when you were fifteen,' Lizzie retorted. 'You just take everything as a joke.'

'First of all, I am still fifteen, though I shall be sixteen very soon, so your jab is irrelevant. And Secondly, I do not take everything as a joke. I am merely witty. It is a great virtue,' Lydia replied.

Kitty burst into laughter. Jane quickly followed.

'A virtue!' Lizzie exclaimed. 'We simply must tell the minister about you. He has ignored his finest parishioner.'

'Mary, why do you stand so quiet over there?' Charlotte suddenly asked through all the laughing.

I was actually quite hungry, which made me slightly drowsy. I smiled cheerfully, though.

'I was just thinking about the Ball.'

'No doubt she's thinking about Peter!' Kitty said.

'Am not!'

'No, Kitty, she's thinking about Mr. Darcy. How she totally made a mockery out of him and Miss Bingley,' Lydia corrected her, smiling.

'That was brilliant what you did, Mary!' Maria Lucas told me, taking my hand. 'Really, I mean I wish I had the courage to go up and tell a gentleman all that!'

'Yes, our Mary was brave, but it would have been even better if that had never happened,' Jane added. 'It would have certainly been fairer to Mr. Darcy, whom we know nothing of really.'

'Oh, Jane!' Lizzie exclaimed. 'He is unpleasant and arrogant, no matter what you say. You are always so good and kind, you never think ill of anybody, but I won't let you spare Mr. Darcy!'

'But, Lizzie, his behaviour might have been caused by a sudden indisposition. Circumstances ought to be taken into consideration...'

'Well, I would have been more inclined to forgive his pride, had he not mortified mine,' Lizzie replied, looking down.

'Pride is a very puzzling thing,' I finally said. 'We all have one trait or another that we are proud of. We all think we know better than most people, even if we deny it. Now, this pride is not dangerous, because we ought to be able to value ourselves correctly and even if, as it happens in most cases, we overestimate ourselves, there is always the element of doubt which, coupled with faith in our rationality and feeling, may show us the true light of our character. But if this pride is not moderated by such measures and if it begins to take the path of vanity...'

'Yes, vanity is quite dangerous,' Charlotte continued. 'One can be fooled into conceit. Vanity makes people look down on others for no good reason.'

'Yes, exactly,' I replied. 'Vanity is what led Mr. Darcy to say those things.'

'Perhaps, but it is all in the past now, I am sure.'

'In the past? Not until he leaves Netherfield. I am sure he has _not_ forgotten what Mary told him,' Lydia argued.

'I've already been punished for that, Lydia,' I muttered.

'And I hold nothing against you, Mary. I've told you before that I found your attitude very becoming. If you keep acting like that, maybe Peter will start looking at you more.'

'This has nothing to do with Peter.'

'Don't tell me you weren't pleased to see him, Mary. And not just because you found him friendly. You were all blushes when he came up to you. Which does not happen with every other young men.'

'I just happened to reacquaint myself with my old childhood friend. I believe I am allowed to have a strong reaction. I do not think of him in any other way. And it is very silly that you should make these connections.'

'Well, you are very boring then, Mary. If I were you, I would try to catch his attention. And I would take advantage of the small notoriety you achieved thanks to Mr. Darcy. Young men are always drawn to girls who are in the middle of things,' Lydia told me.

'What shocking things you say!' Maria chided her, laughing. 'Our little Mary, take advantage of a scandal to advance herself socially? Have you been reading novels again?'

'I do not see the problem. It's all done in the name of love,' Lydia protested.

'Dear God, save us, she is going to talk about love again,' Lizzie mocked, placing a distressed hand over her chest.

'And what is that supposed to mean?'

'Let's just say your concept of love is enough to make Mr. Bingley feel shameful for his feelings towards Jane,' Lizzie explained.

'Feelings which do not exist!' Jane interrupted, but Lizzie held a hand over her lips.

'Jane, let our sister defend herself against my accusation,' she mocked.

'You can mock me all you want, Lizzie, but love means sacrificing your pride,' she declared, staring me in the eye as if to prove to me she had listened to my long diatribe. 'I would do that and much more if I cared for someone deeply.'

'Let us hope no one catches your fancy then,' I replied.

'Oh, shut up Mary, we all know you are besotted already. Besotted, besotted, besotted!'

'Typical of you Lydia, you are so immature,' I muttered.

'I think she's besotted too!' Kitty chirruped, 'and two against one changes the odds.'

'Oh really?' I asked sardonically.

'So how many of you think Mary is already in love? Raise your hands so we can vote,' Kitty proclaimed.

I was going to laugh but then I saw Maria and Lizzie sleazily raise their hands as Lydia counted them.

'Alright, four against...three?' Lydia concluded.

'Oh, no, I choose to reserve my opinion for later,' Jane said demurely.

'Charlotte?'

'Well, I don't think Mary is quite in love, though she might be, Peter seems like a very nice man and a good match,' she replied.

'Alright so that actually makes four and a half from Charlotte against...oh dear Mary, is it just you?'

I groaned.

'Four and a half against one makes us winners!' Kitty exclaimed. 'Now we must tell Peter the conclusion we've arrived at.'

'What? You certainly shan't do any such thing!'

'What are you going to do to stop us?' Lydia asked, raising an eyebrow.

'I will tell papa you have been stealing his cologne,' I threatened.

Lizzie laughed, saying: 'I think you should try harder than that, Mary.'

'Alright, I will burn your bonnets and throw your ribbons in the river!'

'Oh, wonderful! We will have a good reason to beg papa to buy us new ones. Ours are so old-fashioned anyways,' Lydia said happily.

'I will tell your beaus that you snore!'

Kitty and Lydia stared at each other and shook their heads in pity.

'Incorrigible this one, truly,' they declared. 'Can never make a wholesome threat.'

'Yes I can!' I protested.

'Oh she is such a harmless thing. Too innocent and sweet,' Lydia said, elbowing her sister and keeping her face very straight.

'Yes, awfully innocent and sweet,' Kitty agreed, mimicking the other's expression.

'Jane, Lizzie, tell them they are being ridiculous!'

'You are being ridiculous!' Jane and Lizzie both yelled and started laughing.

'Besides, I didn't see any of you stand up to an important man until now,' I reminded them (rather speculatively I admit, but I was growing rather proud of it).

'Oh, we haven't?' Lydia and Kitty drawled.

'That's right.'

'Is that a challenge Mary Bennet?' Lydia asked narrowing her eyes.

'How do you mean?'

'Yes, it is an obvious challenge!' Kitty agreed.

'Alright! We will do it!' Lydia exclaimed. 'Won't we Kitty?'

'We certainly well. Next time we find Mr. Darcy...'

'Excuse me?' I asked, scandalized. 'What sort of challenge do you have in mind?'

'The sort of challenge that involves Mr. Darcy and his rather bewildered expression,' Lydia explained. 'We will offend him twice as much as you did.'

'Now, girls, that is a ludicrous plan and a very nonsensical way to behave,' Jane chided them softly. 'You know that Mr. Darcy has had enough of us for the time being.'

'Well, he is going to stay a month, isn't he? Plenty of time for us to start anew,' Lydia argued.

'Cease with those ridiculous schemes immediately Lydia,' Lizzie intervened. 'If there ever was a person who had the right to offend Mr. Darcy, it should be me. After all, I am the afflicted.'

I chuckled. 'Certainly you should have your say.'

'See? Mary understands.'

'As long as I am not with you to bear the consequences,' I added, smiling coyly.

'You little coward!' Lizzie exclaimed. 'And here I thought you were brave.'

'It was all a facade,' Maria said bemused.

'I told you, you should not take me for granted,' I said, shrugging my shoulders.

'Oh, no, you never said that,' Kitty argued.

'Well, I am saying it now. Mary Bennet is not as fierce as you may think she is. Although she does try,' I said in all earnest.

A grave silence overtook us all, but it didn't last long.

We all burst out into laughter once again.


End file.
